A Rose by Any Other Name
by r-dechagny
Summary: William Lamb-Melbourne owns a failing florists next door to an abandoned coffee shop, but his dull work life (and personal life) is about to change as Victoria, the new owner of the cafe, arrives, determined to make drastic changes to their failing business ventures.
1. A Force of Nature

The old coffee shop stood empty and battered in the corner of the street, a shell of its former glorious self with nothing more than the ghostly memories of its prime. Half of the windows were smashed through and boarded up, whilst the other half had been used for crude graffiti and as the base for a mosaic of bubblegum. The grand wooden door was chipping at the edges and rusting off of its hinges having not been opened for quite some time. Inside, the tables and chairs were thrown across the dirty, scratched floor, dust had settled on every single surface you could think of, the light-bulbs were either burnt out or smashed. It was a small shop that had been abandoned by its previous owners after it failed to make enough money to keep the business afloat – the owners took what was in the till and fled (but not before smashing up the shop that had made their lives hell for a number of years.) No one knew the state of the flat upstairs but everyone who walked by assumed that it was just as terrible.

Next door was a florist, who, despite not having made a profit for a number of years either, refused to shut up shop. William Lamb-Melbourne had owned the shop for almost a life time and he felt like he had amalgamated into the furniture – if he left now then a part of himself would be missing. He would rather you chopped off one of his arms or legs than make him give up the shop that had provided him with so much comfort over the years. In his youth he began to grow his own flowers, plants and vegetables and decided, as he got older, he ought to sell his wares so others could appreciate their scents, their shapes, their meanings. He didn't want his hard work to be only for himself and for it all to die and wither without appreciation. Melbourne's wife had appreciated the vase of fresh flowers he put up in their home every week, the home-grown vegetables for dinner, the bright green shade of their garden. Their son had loved it too. Melbourne knew the activity of the street like he knew the back of his hand. He knew that Mrs Johnson walked past every day at 9:15am and 4:15pm on her way to and from work. He knew the postman did his rounds at 8:45am, that Mr Horrick bought a small bunch of multi-coloured carnations every second Monday and that the coffee shop next door had been left untouched for five years. Melbourne, knowing and observing all for a number of years found the day that a brightly polished, sleek silver car pulling up outside the coffee shop, suspicious. He watched it from over his mug of instant black coffee, eyes fixed to it like a bird stalking its prey. An older woman, who Melbourne thought must have have been around his age, stepped out of the car. She was neatly dressed without so much as a crease in clothes, her perfectly curled hair fell gracefully around her shoulders, but she had an air of worry and disapproval etched on to her face as she disappeared out of sight, stepping towards the abandoned shop. A younger, shorter woman followed her, grinning in her dungarees and her hair carelessly tied back into a bun, a world away from the older woman – she soon disappeared out of sight too, bounding over to the shop door on the balls of her feet.

"Are you sure about this, 'Drina? This doesn't seem like something appropriate for you," the older woman asked, peering into a window that had something rather phallic painted on it. Melbourne could hear her gentle German accent from his open shop door and windows.

"Absolutely sure, Mama. I couldn't think of anything more exciting to do!" the younger woman was grinning and clutching a key in her small hand. "I'm so excited to start that I wish we could have come yesterday."

An British accent, Melbourne noted.

The woman's mother was still unsure and hummed unhappily at her daughter and the shop she now owned. "You are related to royalty, 'Drina, you don't need to be working in a travesty like this."

"Distantly related," the young woman pointed out, "I want to own and work in this place, regardless of need. Anyway, Mama, how many times have I told you that I want to be called Victoria now?" she asked, putting the key into the lock and turning it. She pushed against it but the door wouldn't budge. Victoria pushed again and when it still didn't move, she huffed and stamped her foot in frustration. "Why won't the bloody thing open?!"

Victoria's mother folded her arms across her chest. "Because it is old. You're a silly girl, 'Drina, wasting your money on a place like this when you can be sitting at home in comfort – not in this dump! It'll take months to make this place look any good!"

However her words fell on her daughter's deaf ears as Victoria took a running start at the door, pushing it open with her shoulder and crashing through onto the shop floor as the door gave way with ease this time, hitting her head against a table. The door swung for a second before following Victoria to the ground as the force finally made it come off its rotten hinges. Victoria's mother screamed and tried to clamber inside to help lift the door but she was blocked by tables and she found the door too heavy. Melbourne, judging the noises to be highly unusual, rushed out from his own shop, his coat tails flying behind him. Victoria was completely hidden by the door, except for her feet which could be seen through a glass pane. Melbourne jumped inside the cafe and kicked the tables and chairs out of the way, lifted the door off of the young girl until her mother could slide her out and stand her up. He dropped the door and helped Victoria's mother sit her on a chair for a moment. Victoria's forehead had a cut where blood was leaking out and sticking in her thick, plush eyebrow. She had gone white from the ordeal. Her mother stood behind her, putting her arms around Victoria's shoulders and kissing the top of her daughter's head with worry.

"Are you okay, Ma'am?" Melbourne asked. "I have a first-aid box next door, if you need it."

Victoria waved a hand in the air, her eyes closed and heart beating in her ears. "A little dazed and shocked, but otherwise fine. I didn't expect the door to give way like that."

"No, Ma'am, the previous owners always struggled with that door also." Melbourne paused and gave a hesitant smile. "Though perhaps not as much as you have."

Victoria's eyes fluttered open, smiling too. "I suspect not. Thank you for your help Mr..." she paused and held out one dainty hand. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

Melbourne shook her hand with a firm grasp, grinning. "William. Though many call me Melbourne. I own the florist next door."

"Then thank you, Mr Melbourne. I look forward to seeing more of you – especially if you're going to act like my very own Superman, coming to my rescue like that." Victoria let go of his hand and folded her own hands in her lap, smiling warmly and getting a little colour back in her face.

Melbourne laughed at the idea. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I don't think I got your name," he realised, holding his hands behind his back and looking down at the girl's sparkling blue eyes.

"Victoria," she said, simply. "My name is Victoria." She rose from her chair and clapped her hands together. "And I have plenty to do today – first things first, replacing the door!"

Victoria went back to chattering to her mother excitedly, bouncing around the shop floor as though nothing had happened. Her mother was obviously more wary, trying to slow her down, holding her arm and following her around the room. Melbourne quietly slipped away from the scene, smiling to himself. It had been a long time since he had someone next door to talk to and since business was so slow, a young pretty girl taking ownership was bound to cause a stir, plus it wouldn't hurt him to have someone so astounding, physically and aurally, a few feet away every day. He had only spoken to her briefly but he could already tell that Victoria was someone who was filled with a great passion, something he had lost for his own business quite some time ago. He could tell that she was a force of nature just waiting to make business in the entire street great again, and he could not wait to watch her flourish and grow like one of his own flowers. As he left he could faintly hear her fast voice describing what she wanted to make of the cafe.

A brand new door for the shop was installed that day – gleaming white with a semi circular glass panel about two thirds of the way up where Victoria put up a fresh glossy sign written in red script:

 _UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT._  
 _GRAND RE-OPENING SOON._

Victoria's mother, satisfied that Victoria was in perfect health after the attack from the door, got into the back of the silver car and it sped away, leaving Victoria on the curb, a suitcase at her feet, waving into the distance. Melbourne didn't see Victoria again on that first day. She picked up her suitcase and vanished inside her shop.

The next day was unbearably warm. The sky stretched blue and clear over the entire city of London with barely a breeze, which made for an uncomfortable morning as all the hot air got trapped between the buildings and settled low in the air. It was a drastic change from yesterday's mild weather and grey skies. Melbourne ate breakfast at 7am, showered, dressed and opened the shop for 8am, keeping the door wide open and the windows flung open too. He fiddled with his window displays, re-arranging the bouquets, removing the flowers that were wilting and withering, he rolled his crisp white shirt sleeves to his elbows and polished the inside of his windows, enjoying the quiet for once, but he found himself glancing towards the shop next door every so often. He didn't have long to wait for Victoria to emerge on to the street again with the sound of loud pop music behind her. She was back in her dungarees that had the bottoms rolled up to her ankles so they fit properly, white trainers, a sunshine coloured t-shirt and her hair in braids, she had a metal bucket in one hand and a sponge in the other. Victoria was grinning with determination and didn't seem to mind the hot, muggy weather as she began to scrub the graffiti from the windows that were still intact. Melbourne watched her from his own window, smiling fondly, rather taken by the youthful energy that was suddenly taking the end of the street by storm.

"Good morning, Mr Melbourne!" Victoria said, spotting him through the glass. "How was your evening? Did you sleep well?" She rubbed some sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Very well, Miss Victoria. How is your head this morning? It looks much better today."

"It's only a scratch. Thank you so much again for helping yesterday, Mama and I are extremely grateful for your help."

"It was nothing," Melbourne insisted with a shrug. "I was only too happy to help."

He felt his heart flutter as she smiled at him and went back to washing her windows, singing and wiggling along to her music as she did so. Melbourne watched her as she began to jump, trying to reach nearer the top of the window, making strained noises as she reached and fell back to the ground. Her trainers provided a little springy cushion that helped to propel her a few more millimetres into the air and protected her feet when she fell back to Earth, but it wasn't enough to help the short woman reach the top of the window. She made a determined sound as she jumped up once more. Victoria groaned and threw her sponge into the bucket, folding her arms across her chest in defeat. Melbourne raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused by Victoria's struggle – he thought that the whole thing was actually very sweet.

"Would you like a hand, Miss Victoria?" He asked, stepping out into the street and smiling gently.

Victoria lifted her head and considered it for a moment before nodding. "If you wouldn't mind, Mr Melbourne, that would be extremely helpful." She unfolded her arms and softened her expression at him, holding the bucket out for him to take. He took it with a smile and scrubbed at the remaining graffiti that Victoria couldn't quite reach. Inside, Victoria dusted the surfaces and swept the floor, making everything look as new as she could. The floorboards were creaky and dull, even after all the dust had been swept away.

Melbourne kept smiling at Victoria from outside the window as he worked; he hadn't smiled like this in a long time. "All done, Miss Victoria, I must say that you've really done this place well so far."

"Thank you. It was a struggle to get all the gum off yesterday so can't wait for it all to be finished, really. It's going to look beautiful." Victoria sighed happily, looking at the shop with great pride.

"With a new owner as beautiful as you then I think you might be right." Melbourne muttered, face red. He undid the top button on his shirt to reveal that the skin of his neck and chest gleamed with sweat.

Victoria blushed lightly at the compliment and laughed, glad that in this weather it could be mistaken for sunburn instead. "Oh! Whilst you're here, could you perhaps help me replace the light-bulbs? Even when I stand on a chair I'm too small," Victoria laughed and gestured to herself.

"What you lack in stature, you make up for in charm," Melbourne said, gladly walking into the shop and taking the light-bulbs from the counter.

"I think it might be you who are the charming one, Mr Melbourne," Victoria grinned, slipping out to the back of the shop.

Melbourne stood on a chair to change the light-bulbs, balancing carefully as it rocked from where its legs were worn and misshapen, humming along to Victoria's music. He had no worries about leaving his shop unattended since he rarely got a customer and, as such, no one ever felt the need to try and rob the store either. He enjoyed feeling useful for once by doing the odd jobs that Victoria asked of him – it certainly beat sitting around the shop waiting for customers that never came and waiting for closing time so he could watch television, read, then go to bed. His boring routine had finally be interrupted. Things had been simpler and more exciting with his wife and son. Victoria felt like a breath of fresh air, especially during a sweltering London summer day. Who knew what kind of life Melbourne would have now he had Victoria next door to talk to? Their introduction had been unexpected and exciting, so what was to come next? Melbourne didn't know, but he was impatiently anticipating all of it. Victoria returned moments later with two glasses of lemonade and plenty of ice, with multicoloured straws sticking out of the top.

"I thought you might be thirsty," she explained, handing Melbourne a glass as he stepped down from the chair. "I know it's awfully hot today." Her stomach grumbled, she giggled helplessly and clutched her stomach with her free hand. "Would you like to close early for lunch? It's on me, of course, as a thank you for helping me out."

"I'd be honoured to," Melbourne said simply, gently tapping his glass against Victoria's, both of them grinning.

They found a quiet restaurant a few streets away to have lunch. There was a steady hum from the fans on the ceiling, swirling the hot air around the restaurant. They were sat at a table for two by the window and Victoria's feet dangled a few inches off the floor; she couldn't help but gently swing her feet under the table, looking out of the glass, watching the cars and people go by until they were brought over menus by a waiter. Melbourne found that he was captivated by Victoria again – the way she looked and dressed, the way she smiled at everyone, the way she kicked her feet, they way she scrunched up her nose when she was thinking. She was, in the purest and most simple terms, beautiful in every single way. She oozed charm and appeal and Melbourne was gladly taking it all in and letting himself be awestruck by her.

"You're staring again, Mr Melbourne," Victoria laughed over her menu. "Have I got something on my face?"

Melbourne laughed too, slightly embarrassed. "Not at all. Has it always been your goal in life to own a cafe?" He added quickly, hoping to change the subject.

"Nope! I bought it on a whim."

"Brave, but hardly the wisest business move," Melbourne told her, raising an eyebrow.

Victoria waved a hand. "Maybe not, but it looked so sad and run down that I wanted to do something. I don't want to spend all my days sitting around and doing nothing like Mama would have me do. Anyway, who knows what I'll do with it in the future? Perhaps when I have it up and running to its full potential I'll sell it and move on to a new venture?"

"You don't plan to stick around then?" Melbourne tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Victoria shrugged and sighed longingly, looking up at Melbourne. "I don't know. If I have a reason to stick around once the cafe is thriving again, then I might."

"I hope you find a reason to stay." The words tumbled from Melbourne's lips clumsily and he caught Victoria's eye with a small smile.

"I'm sure I will," Victoria said confidently, grinning back at Melbourne and nudging him with her foot under the table.

They talked for a long time over lunch, getting to know each other, telling jokes, talking about everything and anything that came to mind. Victoria told her new-found friend about her German heritage, choosing to omit the royal connections, and about her stifling mother and uncles. She told him that she could play the piano, speak German fluently, she enjoyed reading and she loved her dog, Dash, more than anything, but he couldn't come and live with her in the flat upstairs just yet – not whilst it was in such a terrible state and she was busy trying to redecorate and clean the coffee shop. She briefly mentioned that she never had a father but she would never let herself get too upset over it. Melbourne, in turn, briefly mentioned his ex-wife and they had a mutual, silent understanding not to press the matters so soon into their friendship. Conversation flowed easily between them like a spring river – it was quick and bright and effortless. Melbourne told her about how he grew all the flowers he sold in an allotment not far from the shop, and he promised to bring Victoria a bunch for her living room after she had showed interest in Melbourne's green-fingered hobby.

"Would you like some help in cleaning the flat?" Melbourne asked. "I've nothing else to do. I can keep the shop closed for a day and help. I wouldn't want you to be away from Dash for too long."

"You'd do that for me?" Victoria asked, genuinely touched by the offer.

Melbourne let out a long breath, smiling at her. "Business isn't exactly booming. It wouldn't make much of a difference."

"You're already making a difference to me." Victoria reached over and laid a hand on Melbourne's, squeezing it lightly in thanks. "You're too kind, Mr Melbourne."

"Call me Melbourne, Miss Victoria."

Victoria shook her head. "Only if you stop calling me 'Miss Victoria', we both sound so formal, don't we? Plain Victoria is fine. In fact, I think I'm going to call you 'M'," she said decidedly, slipping her hand away. "Do you mind that, M?"

Melbourne laughed, bewildered and delighted by this confident woman and her directness. "If you like it, then I like it too."

Their walk back to their shops was a quiet one. It was comfortable silence though, where they basked in the heat of the day with stomachs full of tasty food, powered up and re-fuelled for an afternoon of work. Melbourne went back to his shop in a strangely good mood for the first time in a long time. He hadn't felt this wonderful since his wife was still around. In the coffee shop, Victoria polished the floorboards, bought new windows to replace the broken ones and booked an appointment to have them put in. She bought new tables and chairs, new coffee machines and fridge-freezers for the kitchen and began to plan and buy her décor to liven up the dark shop and bring some energy back to it. Melbourne frequented the cafe and flat throughout the coming days to help out where he could – moving furniture, providing company and helping to re-paint the worn, yellow walls in the living area. He laughed when Victoria managed to get blue paint from her hands on her face. She scrunched up her nose trying to see the smudge on the end of it, laughing too.

"Is business still slow for you?" Victoria asked when they took a break. She sat cross legged in the middle of the floor, sipping at her water.

"Regretfully," Melbourne sighed.

Victoria nodded slowly and set her glass gently beside her. She licked her lips and wrung her hands together before pursing her lips together. "You...know more about running a shop than I do," she said finally. "Neither this cafe, or your flower shop, has done particularly well, not for a long time. So...I think I have a proposition for you."

Melbourne shuffled closer, interested. "I'm all ears."

"You're older and wiser than I am and I think we've become great friends."

"I agree," Melbourne said with a smirk, quietly teasing her.

Victoria rolled her eyes fondly. "I think we should knock the wall between our shops down," she said hastily. "Combine them. A cafe and a florist. A bigger shop, more variety, it's probably quite unusual to have something like this too, so plenty of customers and visitors from a novelty point of view, at the very least."

He took a deep breath. "A very risky move," Melbourne said to her, hesitating and mentally calculating the pros and cons. He liked the idea of the two of them running a joint business, the two of them working closely together and sharing the workload. It was true that the novelty could work in their favour. But what if Victoria decided to leave after all? What if the novelty factor didn't pan out quite as well as they had hoped and they both went under after spending so much money trying to combine their businesses? There were so many what ifs to consider...

"Risky, yes," Victoria agreed, looking Melbourne in the eye. "But you have far more knowledge than I and I could do with working along side someone who can guide me in business. I really do think that we could make this work, gradually, in time. Build up something great and original."

Melbourne sighed heavily and began laughing, totally enamoured by this brilliantly imaginative and brave woman once again. "Okay! Let's do it," he laughed at himself, hardly able to believe that he was agreeing with her on this.

Victoria squeaked with delight and shook Melbourne's hand to seal the deal.

"I think this is going to be the start of something very beautiful, M."


	2. Superman

Victoria was sat cross-legged on the sofa, her hair thrown back into a ponytail with a pencil behind one ear and a used paintbrush behind the other. Her fingertips were stiff from where the paint had dried and cracked, the little paint particles dusting and flaking off into her lap. Her paint water glass was placed on a coaster on her stained coffee table next to a mug of cold tea. All along the living room wall different sized canvases were leaning to dry: paintings of coffee cups, different kinds of flowers, birds, grassy landscapes, and the odd abstract piece where Victoria wasn't sure what to paint at all and let her paintbrush go wild over the canvas instead. Victoria stared up at her mother who looked around at the second-hand furniture with a hand against her chest – hoping that all the furniture would suddenly become new if she glared at it hard enough.

"Oh, 'Drina, what kind of home is this for a young lady of your standing?" she said almost pained and perched herself warily on the edge of the sofa, trying to ignore the hole in the arm of it.

"A lovely one, Mama. It might not be the most luxurious of homes, but it's mine. That's worth far more than any house with velvet sofas and flat-screen televisions."

Mama stood and gingerly fingered through her daughter's paintings, trying to ignore Victoria's comments. "These are beautiful, 'Drina. You always had such talent for the arts."

Victoria took a few moments to let her mother's rare compliment sink in before bounding up from her seat, her bare feet clean despite the painted mess of the rest of the living room. Her blue denim jeans were beginning to roll down past her ankles. "Thank you. We're going to put them up around the shops, or rather, shop."

"John isn't sure about you merging these businesses together, you know. He didn't even approve of you buying this place to begin with," Victoria's mother said, taking out a white handheld fan from her handbag, flicking it open to reveal the pink floral pattern and fanning her face with it.

Victoria rolled her eyes and made a face like she could smell something foul. "The opinion of John Conroy matters to me like the opinion of a sheep matters to a lion."

"I wish you two would get on," her Mama said bitterly. "You ought to give him a chance, 'Drina, he really is a very respectable man and I could do a lot worse."

"I'd rather take my chances with the lion," Victoria told her bluntly, taking her paint water and mug of tea to the kitchen. "And yes, maybe you could do worse, but you could also do better."

Her mother followed her with heavy footsteps, frowning. "He's a good man, 'Drina! We're planning a dinner party in a few weeks – we're hoping your uncles and cousins will come too. We'd like it to be quite the family affair so we would like you to be there."

"A family affair? Mama, I will never consider Conroy to be a member of my family. You could marry him and I'd still never look at him like a family member. He's a snake."

"You're being rude, 'Drina! What has John ever done to you?"

"He's only out for himself, Mama. He doesn't care much for others," Victoria waves a hand dismissively and gets herself a fresh glass of water. "I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

Victoria's mother huffed, beginning to become red in the face. "You don't know anything about him! God forbid you ever think about my happiness for once."

"I'll think about yours when you think about mine," Victoria snapped, staring her mother in eye, unblinking and unwavering.

Ever since John Conroy walked into their lives, things had been different. Victoria felt her mother had become harsher, more blunt with her, they argued a lot more. She was not the woman she used to be. Conroy seemed to be hanging over her mother like a dark cloud over her head, but she couldn't see it – she would never look up, no matter how much Victoria urged her to. Mama Victoria was stubborn and she would not take the advice and warnings of her young daughter, even though she could see and sense Conroy's controlling and manipulative behaviour. Conroy was sharp-tongued to Victoria and Victoria would not let him get away with his guileful and hateful behaviour like her mother would, so of course this caused friction between the trio, often with Victoria or Conroy leaving the room irritated with one another, and with Mama ultimately taking Conroy's side no matter what.

"You are insufferable, 'Drina. I fully expect you to be at dinner and on your best behaviour for your uncles and cousins. I will come by again next week with a time and place," she checks her phone. "I must go – John and I have a lunch date." Mama kissed Victoria's cheek and swiftly but carefully made her way out of the flat. Victoria watched her mother leave from the window and spotted John Conroy across the street. He had his hands firmly thrust in pockets and she could see his cold, grey stare even from this distance. He put an arm around Mama Victoria and they slowly walked around the corner, not looking back at the flat.

Victoria let her anger stew and boil inside of her tiny frame until she felt as though she might burst, and fled from her flat, still barefoot. She rushed down the stairs and out of her shop, stepping out into the street for a second before flying in to the florists next door with her fists clenched so tightly that the skin on her knuckles stretched and turned white. Melbourne looked up from where he was sat behind the till to put together a new bouquet, giving her a small smile and putting down his flowers when he realised something was wrong. He didn't even have time to ask her what it was.

"My mother has the nerve to tell me that I must try to get along with John-bloody-Conroy when he is making it his mission to rattle me in every possible way! He manipulates her and he will always get away with it!" Victoria paced across the room with her arms waving around wildly as she talked. "She wants me to sit there quietly and have dinner with him and my family and pretend like nothing is wrong! I refuse to sit there and act like I like him!"

Melbourne raised his eyebrows. "John Conroy?"

"Mama's so-called 'boyfriend.' He only stays around because she has money and he's in thousands and thousands of pounds of crippling debt, not because he actually loves her!" She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and stopped pacing. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have said that. You won't tell anyone, will you, M?"

Melbourne shook his head. "You have my word."

"I can always trust you, M," Victoria told him, softening her face and relaxing her shoulders. "I'm sorry for bursting in on you like that."

"I'm only creating new bouquets – it's not like I was with a customer. Why don't you grab a chair and help me? If we're merging our shops then you might as well learn a thing or two about being a florist."

Victoria looked at a nearby chair but decided to pull herself up on top of the counter instead, reaching over to grab a few of the flowers that had been freshly picked from Melbourne's allotment that morning, as well as a few that he ordered in. He smiled fondly and began to talk Victoria through what to do next with them: trimming the stems, getting rid of leaves that were crushed and withered or had become lunch for caterpillars and other bugs, choosing what kind of colours and large leafy accents should be there in the bouquet too. Victoria watched Melbourne's dry hands work quickly, trying to copy him, but she was still lagging behind when he wrapped them up in cellophane and purple tissue paper, tying the bottom together with a white ribbon. She frowned at herself as she pricked her fingers on a few rose thorns.

"How do thorns not bother you?" she asked.

"Years of practice and work. My hands have hardened to thorns and nettles...and hot temperatures, actually." He watched Victoria as she crumpled the cellophane and tissue paper trying to wrap her bouquet. She made a small noise of annoyance and unwrapped them again. "Stand up," Melbourne told her. "Let me help."

Victoria slipped off of the counter and stood in front of it, having better access to all the wrapping. Melbourne stood closely behind her and guided her hands to where they needed to be over the wrapping and helped her to carefully roll her flowers into a neat little bunch, Melbourne's hands were still touching Victoria's own soft, paint covered hands when they finished. They hesitated together for a moment before Melbourne quietly cleared his throat and stepped away, grabbing her some ribbon. She managed to make a tight, neat bow around her bouquet and grinned proudly, holding them up in the air. "I did it!"

Melbourne laughed. "You did. Well done, Miss Victoria." He watched her look at the flowers with a smile plastered across her face. She lifted the bunch so she could smell them and Melbourne couldn't stop his heart from beating hard like a drum. "How about you keep those ones?"

Victoria's head shot up. "Really?"

"Really. I have plenty and I think it's only right that you keep your first bouquet."

"Thank you, M. That's so kind of you...what's this flower called?" She asked, pointing to a purple one with lots of flowers on one stem.

"That's a freesia," he said. "These are very popular in wedding bouquets – especially the white ones because they mean innocence and purity, more generally though, they're used as a symbol of trust."

Victoria grinned at him, impressed. "How do you learn all this?"

"It's a hobby," Melbourne told her easily.

"What about this one?" Victoria asked, pointing to another white flower in the shop with unusually shaped petals. She kept her bouquet tucked gently in the crook of her arm.

"That's an orchid. They've got lots of different meanings, especially depending on the colour they are."

Victoria touched them gently, feeling how thin and soft the petals were and enjoying how they tickled her skin. "I love these white ones. They look so delicate."

"Take some," Melbourne urged. "They'll be beautiful in your bouquet."

"You're so kind to me, M," Victoria sighed happily, gently picking out a few of the orchids. "The kindest man I've ever met."

"I do my best, Miss Victoria." Melbourne could feel his cheeks begin to grow warm.

"You've cheered me up so much. Thank you," she smiled and quickly leaned up to kiss cheek, lingering there for a moment, before slipping away and running back to her flat.

Melbourne stood, dumb-founded, touching his cheek with an absent smile. His brain was trying to work out what going on but it couldn't quite believe what had happened. Victoria had kissed him. She had run away immediately after, yes, but she had kissed him. It was purely a friendly gesture, yes, but she had kissed him. He had to sit back down, realising he had been holding his breath since she had kissed him. Melbourne's breath returned to him all at once and found himself coughing as it hit him in the chest like he had been punched by someone much bigger than himself. He was surprised by just how quickly the young Victoria was weaving her way into his affections and how she made him feel, but he couldn't dwell on it for long as a gentleman with a handful of leaflets came marching through the door.

"Mr Melbourne, I assume?" he said. He was an ageing man with a pot belly and round head with hair that was thinning from the front. His face was pink and flabby which highlighted his blonde, whiskered moustache that seemed to wriggle whenever he spoke.

"That's right. How can I be of assistance?"

"Myself and a few others in the area heard about your proposed building work and we're not happy about it."

Melbourne licked his bottom lip and gave an apologetic shrug. "I'm very sorry, Sir, but in the interest of our businesses, this is the best way."

"We don't need more building work going on here, Mister! We have enough noise and dust pollution as it is in London and my poor wife is allergic to dust!" He said, outraged, slamming the poorly made protest leaflets on the desk. "Who do you expect will be paying for this building work, Mr Melbourne? Me and every other damn tax-payer in the country? No, Sir, not on my watch! These buildings are so old I wouldn't be surprised if they came tumbling down! What will happen then?"

Melbourne raised his eyebrows in shock. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we've had architects and structural engineers out to take a look and they think it's going to be perfectly safe. Miss Victoria from next door will be paying for the work and it's due to take no longer than a fortnight. We've done everything we need to by the book and the work is definitely going ahead, despite any protest you or any one else makes."

"Even so! These shops have stood here as they are for years and years. We don't want things to change," the angry man said, shuffling together his leaflets, leaving just one on the table for Melbourne to keep. "The neighbours here like things the way they are and we don't want the noise pollution."

Melbourne got to his feet, smoothing out his shirt. "When was the last time you visited either one of these businesses, Sir? I've been here, working and living within these walls for almost fifteen years and not once have I seen you step foot here, and I doubt you've been next door for coffee more than once when it was open. Perhaps if you were actually a customer, I'd be more inclined to listen to your opinion. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I have work to be getting on with." He showed the protester to the door.

"You haven't seen the last of me, Mr Melbourne," the man warned. "I will be speaking to that little girl as well, you know. I'll get through to her if not you."

"You've clearly never met Miss Victoria," Melbourne said, amused. "If you think you're struggling with me, wait until you meet her. No one gets through Victoria when she's made her mind up on something."

"The mind of a young girl is an easy thing to persuade, Mr Melbourne, just you wait." He waved his sausage sized finger in Melbourne's face and made his way next door, rapping quickly on the door. He was let in moments later. Melbourne checked his watch and kept staring at it until the man emerged again, grumbling unhappily. Thirty seconds. It took exactly thirty seconds for Victoria to send him away. "Bad mannered little Madam," Melbourne heard the man say as he stomped down the street.

Victoria put her head around Melbourne's shop door, grinning, amused and shocked. "How ridiculous! I can hardly see how our building work will impact on him as badly as he thinks it will."

"Many people are averse to change, Miss Victoria," Melbourne said with a sigh, though he was still smiling.

"Would you mind coming to my aid again, M? I need some help hanging a few paintings across the back wall." She had removed her pencil and paintbrush from her ears and tucked them underneath her hairband instead.

Melbourne left to help Victoria more than willingly. He knocked in a few nails along the wall where she instructed and waited for her to bring him the canvases that were dry enough to hang. It took him a few attempts to get them to hang straight but Victoria was visibly thrilled when he managed it. The counter had been cleaned and polished with a new till installed and the frames for the menus were up on the walls and ready to be filled. Melbourne looked around with a smile, hands on his hips.

"I think I might have to get you to re-decorate my shop whilst you're at it," he teased.

"Oh, don't worry, I was planning to," Victoria told him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Of course you were," Melbourne said fondly. "These paintings are lovely, Miss Victoria. They really brighten the room."

"Thank you. Perhaps we can hang the rest along the back wall of your shop? It'll marry the two together quite nicely when the wall gets knocked down."

"That would look very smart," Melbourne agreed. "Good idea."

Victoria started walking to the back of the room through the cafe kitchen, beckoning for Melbourne to follow. There was an open door leading outside to a small courtyard that wasn't quite a garden with a number of bins piled up, filled with rubbish and black bags that were overflowing on to the ground. The smells of rotting food were unmistakable and it made Melbourne's eyes water. The concrete ground itself was becoming green with moss and was somewhat slippery if you weren't wearing the right kind of shoes. In the past this might have been a cosy garden for a single or two-person household – simple and efficient, somewhere to come and when it was hot and sunny.

"I haven't had the time to put my attention here yet," Victoria explained, "but I would love to clean this all up and use it as an outdoor seating space."

Melbourne looked around, considering it with a slow nod. "It's really quite small..."

"I'm thinking two or three tables at most. It will extend our seating capacity and give customers a little bit of fresh air." Victoria put her hands together, almost as though she were praying. "What do you think?"

"Honestly?"

"Absolutely, M, I value your opinion as my business partner and as my friend."

Melbourne hesitated and said gently, "I don't think it's a good idea."

Victoria frowned, her body slumping. "Why not?"

"Because it's simply too small. By the time you've put in the tables and chairs, outdoor lightning, any decorations and the like, it's going to be very difficult for customers and staff to move around one another. It wouldn't be very comfortable. Not only that but there isn't exactly a brilliant view for any customers to sit and look at. It's, frankly, depressing. Then where would you put all the bins once you do the renovations out here?"

"What do you suggest we do with it?" Victoria asked, folding her arms and trying not to be too upset that her idea was knocked down.

"We could always put a couple of flower pots and hanging baskets out here? Grow simpler flowers for small bouquets, for decorations in the cafe, that kind of thing. We can also keep the bins out here too that way," Melbourne points out.

Victoria relaxed the more she thought about it and eventually agreed. "We can put extra chairs and tables in your half of the shop then."

"That sounds like a compromise I can agree with," Melbourne smiled and held out his hand for her to shake. "I think we've got another deal, Miss Victoria."

They parted ways for lunch: Victoria choosing to go out to a restaurant with her friend Flora for a good catch-up and a gossip, finally putting on her trainers but still leaving her pencil and paintbrush in her hair. Flora met her at the shop door, dressed far more smartly than Victoria, though this could be forgiven since Flora was not in the process of renovating a cafe and flat. Victoria talked endlessly about the cafe and the renovations, discussing her ideas for the business and telling Flora all about Melbourne's kind and helpful nature. Flora listened quietly, sipping her coffee and mentally counting how many times Victoria mentioned Melbourne's name. Melbourne himself, however, stayed in his flat with a microwave meal on his flat-cushioned sofa, trying to figure out how he felt about Victoria and why she made his heart beat so fast. Of course, he thought, it could be that she's the most exciting person who's been here for five years instead of anything else. She was young and she was quickly infecting their two buildings with her energy, so much so that it was beginning to seep into Melbourne too, making him feel more alive than he had for years. She was something new for Melbourne so it was only natural he would gravitate towards her.

Flora made her way back to the shop with Victoria after lunch, the pair still chatting away and almost missed Melbourne standing outside, re-painting the chipped, grimy wall.

"M!" Victoria cried, holding out her arms. "You must meet my friend."

Flora waited for Melbourne to put his brush down and shake her hand. "Mr Melbourne, I'm Flora Hastings. I've heard so much about you this afternoon."

"All good I hope," Melbourne said, glancing over to Victoria.

"Nothing but glowing compliments, I assure you," Flora told him with a knowing grin, looking between Victoria and Melbourne, who were also looking at one another rather than at Flora herself. "Anyway, I must go. It was very nice to meet you, Mr Melbourne." Flora kissed Victoria's cheek before making her way back home.

Victoria sighed happily. "Isn't Flora just the loveliest? I'm going to go out the back and do some work in our little garden. Come and get me if you need me." She flounced away into the shop, leaving Melbourne to finish the upkeep on his own shop.

Melbourne went back to work, getting lost in his thoughts and wishing he had some music to listen to too, just like Victoria had when she was cleaning her windows. However, as Melbourne was quickly beginning to learn, living next to Victoria was not going to be peaceful. Victoria let out a blood-curdling scream which made Melbourne's heart leap into his throat, he jumped almost a foot in the air, dropping his paintbrush on the ground and running through the shop and out the back to find her. She kept screaming as he ran and a thousand different scenarios went through his head. Perhaps she had broken a leg? Perhaps a burglar had got in over the wall? What if she was being kidnapped? Did she find a dead body in one of the bins? When he got to her, Victoria was crammed up against the wall, her eyes brimming with tears and pointing behind the bins, her hand visibly shaking. She was as white as a sheet and looked as though she had seen a ghost. Melbourne quickly went over to the bins and pulled one out from the wall and watched as a couple of rats scurried out across the concrete, which only made Victoria begin to scream again. He stepped away and helped Victoria back inside the shop and up the stairs to her flat, not complaining when she gripped him tight, too afraid to let go. He made her a cup of tea and sat with her on the sofa until her face regained some colour and she had stopped shaking.

"Thank you, M," Victoria said quietly, a little embarrassed. "You must think I'm so silly."

"The thought hadn't even crossed my mind," Melbourne assured her. "I was worried something had happened to you."

"I died of fright, that's what happened to me," Victoria said miserably, hiding her face in her hands.

Melbourne hesitantly put an arm around her to comfort her. "I'll go out and sort out the bins and the rats and you can paint the outside of the shop. Does that sound okay?"

Victoria nodded and lifted her head, smiling a little, already feeling better. She took her tea and sipped at it. "Sugary."

"Sugar does the world of good for shock," Melbourne told her, pulling his arm away and shifting away from her. "Is that all right?"

"It's great, thanks." Victoria tapped her fingernails against the mug, the repetitive motion calming her down even further. "Look at you, M, still proving to be my Superman. Coming to my aid when I'm injured or afraid, listening to me when I'm angry, being honest with me about my ideas, teaching me new skills, making sure I'm okay and helping me however you can...I'm so lucky to have met you."

Melbourne gave her a self-conscious smile. "Likewise, Miss Victoria. I'd better go and deal with those rats – come down when you feel ready."

Victoria thanked him again and settled more comfortably on the sofa to finish her tea, staring at the bouquet of flowers that Melbourne had let her keep that morning, which she had placed in a vase on top of the fireplace. It was such a lovely gesture. Everything Melbourne did for Victoria seemed to be out of the pure kindness of his heart and nothing else. She could not imagine him doing a kind act for some ulterior motive like she could imagine John Conroy doing. Melbourne was a good man and one that Victoria felt she could trust totally with anything. Not only was he all of that, but he genuinely cared about her too - not like her mother, not like Conroy, not like her uncles, not like any other man she had ever met. No one's kindness made her heart flutter quite like Melbourne's did. It was a nice change and one that Victoria didn't mind getting used to. If she did have to go to this dinner with her family and Conroy, then she thought she would like to bring Melbourne along too. He would be the only person to make that dinner bearable.

Melbourne left the flat feeling much better, if a little shaky himself. He was relieved that Victoria was okay and that it wasn't a more serious problem, but he feared that her frightened screams would not leave his mind for a long time. It didn't take too long for Melbourne to clean up the rubbish, shoo away the rats, and tidy the outside area so they had room to start growing things, and even pulled out the weeds that were growing in the cracks of the concrete. After washing his hands, he went back to the front of the shop with another paintbrush. Victoria was quietly painting the wall, not jumping up like she usually did, not dancing or wiggling, not anything except diligently painting the wall. Melbourne silently joined her, painting over the parts that she couldn't reach. Victoria looked up at him and began to smile, grateful for his existence. Melbourne smiled back down at her, totally content with being able to make her happy in even the smallest of ways.


	3. Secrets and Lies

The builders walked through the small crowd of protesters with ease like they weren't even there at all. Some of the crowd didn't really seem to know why there were there either, having wandered past and joined the few just to see what was happening, hoping there were freebies from the florists or cafe, wondering if there had been an accident, or to see if it was a protest they wanted to join. Some were just looking for trouble. The leaflets from the man with the sausage fingers and blonde moustache had been laminated and tied to lamp-posts, though many of them had been defaced or had become a toilet for birds. Melbourne and Victoria ushered the builders in and shut the door quickly, as a few of the protesters tried to follow them inside to stop the work from starting, and they broke into uproar when the door was closed on them. Victoria opened the window and began to tell them that they needed to leave, promising that once all the renovations had been done they could all have a free coffee and piece of cake as a goodwill gesture, but this did not assuage the ageing protesters, but the younger members of the group were happy with this deal and walked away, leaving only the older members of the community. Luckily the late morning heat became too much for them and they all trailed off one by one, promising that they would be back again tomorrow.

"This isn't over," the man with the whiskered moustache warned through the window. "You won't win this one!"

Victoria stuck her head out of the window, shouting over the noise of the building work that had just begun. "I think we already have, Sir! I'm awfully sorry."

He left grumbling again, not yet wanting to admit defeat.

Whilst the building work was taking place, Victoria had made arrangements to stay with Flora since the noise and the dust would disturb her planning for the cafe and florist decor and the brand new promotional advertising. She went upstairs to the flat to finish packing her suitcase, whistling to herself as she did. Melbourne stayed with the builders in the meantime, making cups of tea for them and providing them with biscuits and snacks. Unlike Victoria, he had nowhere else to go for those two weeks but he didn't all mind the noise and the mess, plus someone needed to stay and oversee the work as it was going on, so he was more than happy to stay.

Victoria began to drag and haul her suitcase down the stairs, making little grunting noises as she did and taking a break in the middle of the stairs to give her little arms a rest. Melbourne looked over and smiled at her from his seat by the door, a foot away from the stairs leading to the flat, trying not to laugh. He took her suitcase and helped her down the stairs by her hand, putting the suitcase by the door for her.

"Thank you, M. You continue to be the best," Victoria told him, shouting over the noise from the builders. "Are you sure you're going to be alright here on your own?"

"I've been here on my own for the past five years, so I'm sure another two weeks won't matter," he assured her, though his words did not assure himself. There was still a pang of sadness in his chest at the idea of Victoria being further away from him than next door, even though he'd had weeks to prepare himself for it. He would miss her more than he thought he would.

"I'll be back almost every day," Victoria said, putting a hand on Melbourne's arm. "It'll be like I'm still upstairs."

"I'm sure," Melbourne laughed. "Don't rush back. Enjoy some time off and be with your friends."

"You're also my friend, M. I still want to spend time with you." Victoria stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek as a blue car pulled up outside. "I'll see you tomorrow." She picked up her suitcase and went out to the car. She was gone in a matter a moments and everything seemed quiet, even with the noise of the builders.

Flora's house could not have been more different from Victoria's flat. It was perhaps a little large for only one woman, but it was heavily decorated with plush red carpets and heavy matching curtains. She kept plenty of her family's china vases and ornaments on the fireplace, one of which was of an Edwardian girl with blonde curly hair, a duck egg blue dress and a little white parasol. Victoria thought the little Edwardian girl looked a lot like Flora herself. There were a number of portrait paintings on the walls through the corridors and the living room; they were paintings of Flora as well as her mother and father, her four siblings, and her grandparents. The painting of her paternal grandfather unnerved Flora – she often spoke of how she believed the eyes followed her around the room, and how it would often slip and hang to one side of the hook, no matter how many times Flora put it straight again, but she swore blind that the hook was in straight. She would always blame it on the ghost of her grandfather. With all these items in the house and possibility of a ghost, it was hard to feel like the house was too large for just one girl.

Flora always had a second bedroom made up for visitors and this was where she helped Victoria bring up her suitcase. The second bedroom was decorated in a pale, spring green colour with lightly coloured solid wood furniture. More of Flora's china covered the chest of drawers and there were heart shaped coasters on the bedside tables, as well as vases of faux flowers – Victoria beamed when she realised that should could identify almost all of the flowers. The bed was four-poster with a total of six soft pillows by the headboard, it had a duvet so fluffy that it felt like a marshmallow and it was all on top of a medium-hard mattress. Victoria couldn't resist flopping on the bed, wriggling around in the duvet as Flora laughed at the door.

"You've settled in well already! I think you'll be very happy in here," Flora told her, amused.

"I think you might be right," Victoria sighed happily, sitting up. "Thank you, Flora, this is most comfortable."

"Your mother phoned this morning. She wants the three of us to have tea and she wants to speak to you about something."

Victoria frowned. "Why didn't she tell me that herself?"

"I wouldn't know," Flora said apologetically. "But we can have tea this afternoon and go for a stroll around St James' Park and find out?"

Victoria nodded. "That sounds lovely."

Flora answered the door to Mama Victoria at two in the afternoon on the dot. Flora already had a pot of tea and some teacups on her glass coffee table in the living room, as well as a three tiered cake stand that was filled with finger sandwiches and mini cakes that Flora had made and baked that morning. They kissed one another's cheeks at the door, chattering excitedly together as they made their way inside. Victoria slowly walked back down the stairs after getting changed from her jeans and t-shirt into a pink lace dress that sat below her knees (though, it was supposed to sit on the knee, according to the model she had originally seen it on) and had braided her hair before wrapping it round in a bun. She wore low heels and wobbled on them a little since she was so used to wearing trainers or being barefoot now, but despite her mild discomfort, greeted her mother with a smile.

Her Mama put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, 'Drina, you look so beautiful. If you dressed like that next week then you might give poor Albert a heart attack."

"Albert?"

"You remember your dear cousin Albert, don't you?" Mama asked as they all sat on the cream sofa. "Your Uncle Ernest's younger boy."

"What does cousin Albert have to do with anything?" Victoria asked, then quietly thanked Flora for the tea as she poured it. Victoria added three sugar cubes and gently stirred them in her tea, delicately tapping the spoon against the rim of the china after it had dissolved.

"He's very handsome and very single," Mama began, taking a cucumber sandwich. "He plays the piano very well, just like you, he's very serious, unlike you...you could be a good match," she says easily. "I wanted to discuss with you the idea of going on a date with him."

"I've seen a recent photograph," Flora mentions. "He's aged very well."

Victoria frowned at them both. "I don't wish to date my cousin. I remember him being very rude and he never smiled either. Why should I ever wish to date somebody like that?"

"He's not like that any more, 'Drina. Albert is a fine young gentleman and your uncle Ernest thinks the two of you would make a handsome couple. I have to agree and so does John. Actually, it was John who suggested it to begin with. If all goes well then you could settle down with Albert and forget all about this coffee shop nonsense."

Flora quietly poured her own tea, carefully eyeing Victoria, knowing full well that she would be dead against the idea and was silently eager to see what she would do next. Flora, perched next to Mama, placed a napkin from her pocket in her lap to catch crumbs.

"I will not be dating my cousin, Mama! No matter what you, uncle Ernest, John Conroy, or anyone else thinks." Victoria looked panicked and scandalised by the proposal. She knew that her mother would not give up this idea easily. Mama never gave up when she wanted Victoria to do something and it took months for Victoria to convince Mama to let her buy the coffee shop. Victoria became so panicked and concerned that she couldn't stop the lie from slipping out of her mouth. "Besides, I don't need you playing matchmaker for me because I'm already seeing someone."

Flora almost choked on her tea, her eyes wide with surprise and Mama looked at Victoria, horrified and put down her teacup in fear she might break it since her hands were shaking so much.

"Who are you seeing, 'Drina?! Why have I not heard about this?!" Mama said, beginning to break into hysteria.

"I didn't say anything because I knew you wouldn't approve and you would try to intervene...it's my life, Mama, it's about time you let me do as I please without hovering over my shoulder! I'm not a child any more!" Victoria exclaimed, putting down her own teacup too.

Flora settled back in the sofa, getting more comfortable to watch them. She sipped at her tea and let her dark green eyes dart between the mother and daughter, her heart beating with anticipation on where this might go next. She slowly began to eat a sandwich.

"Who is he, 'Drina?!" Mama asked.

Victoria hesitated, swallowing nervously and wringing her hands together in her lap, her brain working at a thousand miles per hour as he tried to figure out an appropriate answer to her mother's question. "M," she said finally. "Melbourne. My dear William." There was a strange taste in her mouth as she continued the lie and a heavy feeling in her chest. It was almost as though she wanted the lie to be true.

Flora almost choked again and her Mama went pale.

"You're dating Mr Melbourne?" Mama asked, voice shaking as much as her hands.

"Yes and we're very happy," Victoria said, trying not to panic and hoping her mother wouldn't see through the falsity.

"How long have you been seeing one another?" Mama asked, breathing slowly and trying to settle her shaky hands.

"Not very long at all," Victoria decides, "which is another reason why I hadn't told you yet."

Mama swallowed her tea quickly, ignoring how it scalded her throat. "You're a very silly girl, 'Drina. I have to go, but I look forward to seeing you and Mr Melbourne next week for dinner. I trust that won't be a problem if you are seeing one another?" She got up from her seat, smoothing out the skirt of her dress and rolling her shoulders, trying to get the tension out of them.

"But you've only just arrived," Flora protested, getting up as well. "What about our walk?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to go on your own. I have a few things to discuss with John and my dear brothers. Take care, Flora, darling, we'll have afternoon tea somewhere soon." Mama kissed Flora's cheek and left without saying another word to Victoria.

Victoria relaxed completely after her mother left and she slumped on the sofa, her breath leaving her quickly as she exhaled. She put her head in her hands, making an embarrassed noise. Flora got up to put away the tea items, somewhat amused by the situation.

"I think it's time we went for that walk, Victoria. Don't you think? We've lots to discuss, I'm sure," Flora said, hiding her laughter behind her hand.

The sun shone low over St James' Park that afternoon with a light breeze that almost wasn't there at all. It was a hazy afternoon and the heat waves were clearly visible in front of you if you crossed your eyes enough as August made way for September. There were families sat around enjoying the last of the summer with picnics, some played football and frisbee, other people were lying in the grass trying to soak up the sun they had left, topping up their holiday tans, as others played with water guns. Children ran around freely, laughing, with no qualms about running in front of other people's paths. The sun glinted off of the lake making it look as though it were made of thousands and thousands of tiny diamonds, though the pelicans didn't mind. Flora and Victoria walked through the park with their arms linked together, which Victoria felt grateful for as the extra support from Flora meant she could steady herself on her heels as she practised walking in them.

"You aren't really dating Mr Melbourne, are you?" Flora asked, smiling, not even attempting to hide the cheer in her voice.

"No, I'm not, and I'm not quite sure how I'm going to get out of this one either," Victoria sighed, annoyed at herself and squeezed Flora's arm.

"Mr Melbourne seems like a reasonable man," Flora pointed out, "you could simply explain to him what is going on and ask him to join in on the pretence?"

Victoria nodded but she suddenly became filled with dread. "But what if this is beyond his reason? It is a large lie to go along with and he has enough to worry about with the shop and the builders...I wanted him to come to dinner anyway, but a lie like this might be a step too far for him."

Flora hesitated before she spoke as they began to cross the blue bridge over the lake. "You won't know until you ask him," she told Victoria delicately. "He might surprise you."

"What if I tell Mama and my uncles that we broke up? It wasn't working because of our professional relationship. That would work, right?" Victoria asked, the panic rising in her again (and her stature meant it didn't exactly have far to rise.) "Please tell me that would work!"

"They would still want you to start dating Albert since you'd be single once again," Flora sighed. "Your mother speaks very warmly about Albert, Victoria. He seems like a very fine young man and he really is quite easy on the eye." Flora gently nudged Victoria with her hip, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "He might not be as bad as you seem to think he is."

Victoria laughed despite herself. "Even so, I could never date my cousin. He's my cousin!"

"Then you must discuss your problem with Mr Melbourne. I take it, since you were going to ask him to dinner anyway, he knows who your uncle really is?" Flora paused on top of the blue bridge to look out over the water, squinting as it sparkled back at her.

Victoria looked at her with wide eyes, realising that she had forgotten about that and propped her elbows up on the rail of the bridge, watching the pelicans as they paddled across the lake. "He doesn't. I haven't said a word. Oh, Flora, what am I to do? I have been very foolish."

"Yes," Flora agreed, gently rubbing Victoria's back between her shoulder blades, hoping this would comfort her. "But he will find out when you go to dinner anyway...I think you should tell him yourself. He'd value it a lot more if he heard it from you. You don't want him to find out who he is when he turns up for dinner. It could make for an awkward first meeting."

"I don't want M to treat me, or the rest of my family, differently, Flora, he's the best man I've ever met. What if he hates me for hiding the truth?"

"Oh, I'd hardly think he'd hate you, Victoria. You both seem extremely fond of one another."

"We are," Victoria agrees, sighing over the water. "Very much so."

Flora smiled, her voice soft. "Then I think you have nothing to worry about. You've always said that your uncle's position barely changes anything about you – I can't see why you would be worried about that now. Does Mr Melbourne know your real name?"

"Victoria is my real name!" she protested, which elicited a laugh from Flora. "He might have heard Mama call me 'Drina the first day we met, but he's probably forgotten about that by now if he did hear her."

Flora despaired at her friend but still looked at her fondly. "Go to him and explain everything before he finds out himself. If you care for him and he cares for you, the lie you've told today and the truth you've withheld so far will only hurt for a moment, if it even hurts at all. The longer you leave it, the worse it will get."

Victoria stepped away from the bridge, painting on a smile and holding herself up, almost as though she were trying to make herself look taller. "You're right. I'll go now and be back before it gets dark," she promised, running back over the bridge the way they came and across the grass. "Don't wait up!" she called back.

Flora rolled her eyes, grinning, and made her way through the rest of the park.

Victoria stopped running after a few hundred meters and took off her pink patent shoes so she didn't get blisters and didn't trip, running barefoot for as long as she could before she became tired. Her perfectly placed hair was beginning to unravel down her shoulders and her mind raced almost as fast as her legs did, trying to work out how to tell Melbourne everything she needed to. Everything she wanted to. Her heart beat loud in her chest with anticipation and nerves for Melbourne's reaction (and because of all the running.) She slipped her shoes back on when she got into a taxi back to the shop. When she arrived she made her way back inside the building, running up the stairs and saying hello the builders on her way, knocking furiously on Melbourne's flat door. She rushed in when he opened it, barely stopping to look at him.

Melbourne's flat was a mess. There were cups and plates stacked in the living room and papers upon papers piled messily across the desk in the corner. There were cushions on the floor and it clearly hadn't been dusted or polished in weeks. Melbourne thrust his hands into his pockets, looking around sheepishly at the mess.

"I wasn't expecting company," he explained with a shrug.

"Evidently," Victoria said, still smiling.

Melbourne paused, licking his bottom lip. "I almost didn't recognise you, Miss Victoria," he said, taking a hand from his pocket to gesture to her.

Victoria looked down at her dress and shoes, suddenly feeling very self conscious and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You don't like it? It's probably a bit much, but I was having tea with Flora and Mama..."

Melbourne shook his head, feeling his heart get caught in his throat once again, becoming tired with how she was able to make this happen to him on a regular basis. He had never seen Victoria look so elegant and beautiful, and he felt charmed by how the blush in her cheek matched the blush of her dress. "On the contrary," he began, "I think you look...astonishing. It suits you."

"Thank you," she said quietly, surprised and a little taken back by the compliment and finally lifted her head once the fluttering feeling in her stomach stopped. "I've come here because I've something I need to tell you and something I need to discuss with you."

They found some space on the sofa to sit, knocking off newspapers and pens. Melbourne was suddenly becoming nervous and could feel his palms begin to sweat, though he kept smiling as if nothing was wrong, but he was still a little winded from how pretty he thought Victoria looked. "Please go ahead."

"I haven't been entirely honest with you on something. You remember me telling you that I am to have dinner with Mama and my uncles?" she waited for him to nod before continuing, "well, one of my uncles, my mother's brother, is Prince Leopold of Belgium through marriage."

Melbourne was struck with surprise like he had been slapped. He was confused as well as shocked and blinked rapidly. "You're the niece of a Prince? You're related to a Prince?"

"Yes, but he's a Prince through marriage! It's barely anything really..." Victoria insisted. "And it's not like it really makes a difference to me and who I am. I'm not in line to be Queen or anything..." she joked, "though Mama would like me to act like I am." Victoria looked down in her lap, nervous too, waiting for Melbourne to speak.

Melbourne sighed heavily, still trying to process the information. "Do you have a title I need to refer to you by?" he asked, laughing in disbelief and trying to continue Victoria's joke.

Victoria laughed too. "No, thank god. Though my family don't often refer me as Victoria, my middle name, so if you want a title then the best I can do for you is my Christian name. Alexandrina...'Drina. That's who I am to them."

Melbourne nodded. "Then it's nice to meet you, Alexandrina..." He said the name slowly, still smiling through his shock. The name seemed to come out easy for him.

The butterflies in Victoria's stomach began to flap again when he said her name and her heart beat hard. She crossed her arms over her chest, half convinced that Melbourne would hear it. "I think we should stick with Victoria..." she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye. "The thing is, M, I wouldn't be telling you any of this if it weren't for something I said to Mama this afternoon, because all of it would usually be rather irrelevant."

"Is something troubling you?" Melbourne asked, sitting back with a concerned look on his face.

Victoria looked at him, shamefaced. "I've done something extremely silly and I need to ask you to do me an extremely large favour because of it."

"I'm your friend, I'll do whatever I can," he assured her in a soft tone.

"Mama and my uncles would like to see me enter into a relationship with my cousin, Albert, of course this is ridiculous...but in order for Mama to stop pressing the issue, I told her I was already seeing someone."

Melbourne frowned, confused. "What does this have to do with me?"

Victoria began to wring her hands together in her lap again, taking a few deep breaths. "The thing is, M, I told Mama that we were in a relationship."

"Oh." Melbourne felt as though he had been slapped again and could feel his heart beating irregularly. "Maybe I should see a doctor?" he thought.

"Oh, indeed. I wanted you to come to dinner anyway...but now I must ask you to go along with the lie and Mama expects you to be there if we are dating. I understand if you say no; it's a big ask. I'll come up with another plan if you aren't on board. If I didn't say anything then I knew Mama would keep going on about it and I really don't want to go out with Albert."

Melbourne raised his eyebrows, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process everything. Victoria kept talking, trying to justify the request at lightning speed and Melbourne could hear the panic and the upset in her voice. Pretending to be someone's boyfriend felt like something incredibly childish to do and his first instinct was to deny her suggestion, but there was a small part of his brain that was making him stop and re-evaluate the situation. Victoria was clearly distressed and he didn't like seeing her upset and hurt, and he knew that pretending to be her boyfriend for this dinner would make her happy. Then again, dinner with her over-bearing family and a Prince was a suffocatingly daunting task, especially when he had only known Victoria for a number of weeks and had never had a prolonged conversation with any member of her family.

Victoria began to trail off with tears in her eyes and she reached up to wipe one away with her index finger. If Melbourne were totally honest with himself, the idea of pretending to be Victoria's boyfriend was not entirely an unpleasant one, which confused him. She was someone that beguiled him and the more he second-guessed himself and considered her proposal, the more inclined he became to agree.

"Yes," Melbourne said, not wholly aware he was even saying it. "I'll do it."

Victoria's face began to light up once more, brimming with happiness. "Really, M?!"

"It's just one evening, right? What's the worst that could happen?" he said, breaking into a smile himself as Victoria did.

She pulled Melbourne into a tight hug, her body light with relief. She kissed his cheek and squeezed him. "M, you're a star! I don't know how I could ever thank you."

"If I ever think of a way then I'll let you know," Melbourne said in good humour.

Victoria grinned and let go of him, checking the time and began to ramble about how she had to go back to Flora's for dinner. Just as quickly as Victoria had arrived, she was gone again, running across the street and waving back at the window. There was a moment of quiet before suddenly everything that had just happened hit Melbourne all at once like a tonne of bricks, and left him feeling like he had been swept up in a hurricane.


	4. Sunrise and Shooting Stars

The sun was half suspended in cloud, drifting like a boat on calm seas and making the sky glow peach and pink. The birds sung their morning song as they flitted past the window and nestled together on a nearby tree. Victoria stood by the window, watching them with an absent smile. The clock on the wall ticked with a quiet, musical tone. Tick. Tick. Tick, but Victoria could barely hear it over the sound of the birds. She stood on her tip-toes, stretched her little body up and reached out to push the top of the window open, letting the birdsong fill the room in a second. She closed her eyes and took five deep breaths. Breathing in and out. In and out. There was a strange, comforting peace this early in the morning with only the sounds of birds, the clock, and her breathing to be heard. This was a time where there was peace and silence before the raucousness of the day began and Victoria thought she needed this tranquil moment, especially today. She could smell the freshly cut grass whenever she breathed in deep and could feel the soft and silky satin of her dressing gown against her skin as the breeze danced through the window. Her eyelids were red and heavy. Victoria turned to look at the clock – 5:55am. She sighed and slipped on her slippers, then grabbed her mobile phone before quietly opening the door, hoping that it wouldn't creak and wake Flora, who was still tucked up in bed and snoozing next door. Victoria was as quiet as mouse as she crept across the hallway and ran down the stairs, letting her satin dressing gown trail and float behind her like she was a princess from a book. The key to the garden was sat in the lock of the back door and Victoria turned it, smiling at the satisfying sound of the click as it unlocked. The air was mild on her face and the breath of the Earth made her long, deep dark hair wave and tangle. She took photographs of the sunrise with her phone, smiling up at the sky, despite the nerves and tiredness in her chest. She sent a photograph of the sunrise through the trees to Melbourne.

Couldn't sleep – too nervous. I've got this beautiful photo to show for it though. I hope I haven't woken you.

V xo

Melbourne was sat on his sofa with the news on, his television on mute when the text message came through. His living room curtains were closed, refusing to let any light in just yet – he barely noticed the pink luminescence trying to make its way in regardless of the fabric barrier. His blue and white plaid dressing gown was starting to yellow – it was worn and scratchy and there was a hole in the armpit. He scratched his face, the noise of his nails scraping against his stubble went right through him. There were still a number of newspapers stacked up on the sofa next to him, but he had made an attempt to clean since Victoria had last visited. He smiled when he saw Victoria's name flash up on his phone screen, glad that she was awake too. Melbourne's eyes were dark and also suffering from a lack of sleep, but he felt wide awake when Victoria made herself known through the screen.

You'll be okay, I'm sure. It's one dinner and I'll be there, so will Flora. It's only a night, remember? It's barely anything. That's a beautiful photograph, by the way.

M...x

He would not let her know, but Melbourne was just as nervous, if not more so. Melbourne needed to be unafraid and level-headed since, if they were both nervous wrecks, then their entire plan would fail. Flora would only be able to hold the charade on her own for so long before Victoria's family realised that all was not as it seemed. He made his way to the kitchen and poured himself another mug of black coffee, keeping his phone in the pocket of his dressing gown, hoping that he might feel it buzz again. His flat was quiet – rare, now, as the builders were downstairs often, filling the flat with the sound of their tools and boyish conversation. He took his coffee back to his bedroom and from his wardrobe hung a black suit that had an air of must about it from where it had been shoved away and hidden after the funeral. He was scared to wear it again, but it was all he had to wear for dinner with a Prince and a girl he loved. The thought went through his mind at great speed.

The morning went by painfully slowly, allowing the uneasiness and stress boil up inside both Victoria and Melbourne alike. Victoria went back to her flat in the afternoon to begin getting ready for the dinner, trying on a number of different outfits in varying colours, unable to find something that made her feel more comfortable and confident. She always thought the right outfit could hide a multitude of emotions. When Melbourne arrived in his suit, he followed the trail of clothes Victoria had left, leading to the bedroom where she was pinning her hair into place.

"M! I'm glad you're here – I need you to tell me how I look." She stepped away from her mirror and slowly turned so Melbourne could see. Victoria had settled on wearing a warm plum coloured dress – which made the icy blue of her eyes more vibrant – that had a white lace collar. The waistline sat tight against her, accentuating the 1950's shaped skirt that sat a few centimetres below her knees. She wore low black heels and her hair was pinned neatly to the back of her head, leaving only two dark strands either side of her face to frame it.

Melbourne looked at her, smiling from one side of his mouth. "Stunning as always, Miss Victoria."

"Please, it's just Victoria," she laughed. "If you're going to be my boyfriend for a night then you're going to have to drop the pleasantries. Oh, M, you look so handsome." He had shaved his stubble and styled his hair back neatly. He wore a black tie with his suit, but it was tied crookedly, and he had silver cuff-links on his shirt cuffs. Melbourne still felt uncomfortable in the suit, but he couldn't tell her why, not yet at least. "Would you like some help with your tie?" She asked him.

Melbourne nodded and thanked her as she carefully untied the knot with her perfectly manicured fingernails. She tied it again for him, singing under her breath as she did so. "Twice around the tree the little rabbit ran with the quick grey fox close behind. Under a bush, the little rabbit fled escaping that fox one more time. With a giant leap, rabbit barely cleared the top of a big, round log. Poor fox could only watch as the little rabbit dove to the safety of his cool, dark hole!" The tie was neat and perfectly tied and Victoria looked up at him, her eyes bright and hands still lingering over Melbourne's chest.

"What was that?" He asked her.

"A song to help you remember how to tie a tie. I've heard Mama sing it to Friedrich multiple times, even though he's old enough to tie a tie himself."

Melbourne tilted his head, looking down at Victoria and resisting the urge to put his arms around her waist. "Friedrich?"

"My half-brother."

"You have a brother?" Melbourne asked, surprised.

"And a sister, Feodora."

"Will they be at dinner tonight too?"

"No, they're both married and settled in Germany. I suspect Uncle Leopold will visit them there soon."

"Do you miss them?"

Victoria paused and nodded. "Terribly." She seemed to realise she was still touching Melbourne's chest and cleared her throat. She took a step back and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Would you like some flowers for your hair?" Melbourne asked suddenly. "I have plenty of fresh ones from the allotment this morning."

She began to perk up again and ran downstairs to the shop to look through all of the flowers, Melbourne followed behind her. He thought they were like the fox and the rabbit from the song. Victoria browsed through the flowers but didn't find any that clicked with her until she stopped and asked if Melbourne had any more orchids. He grabbed a few and pinned them into her hair, smiling, and had to stop himself from kissing the top of her head. Victoria's brain flashed with another idea and scoured the entire shop, glad it was the builders' day off, looking for a safety pin. When she found one, she pinned it to the lapel of Melbourne's jacket and slipped an orchid through it, "so we can match."

They travelled to Uncle Leopold's London home in a taxi, Victoria muttering about how many people were homeless in London and yet Leopold had more than one home spanning multiple countries. Leopold's house stood grand and unmoving in a cold, grey colour that seemed to stand over and engulf anyone that stood before it. Victoria immediately grabbed Melbourne's hand as they made their way up the steps to the front door, squeezing it as tightly as she could. They didn't even need to knock; the door appeared to open all on its own. Inside was gilded and white with large portraits on the walls and even an ancient suit of armour in the corner, which made Victoria scoff and snigger whenever she saw it. Melbourne felt quite small being somewhere so grand and gently rubbed the back of Victoria's hand with his thumb.

A waiter in a smartly pressed suit emerged from behind them, holding a silver tray with a number of crystal champagne flutes. Victoria and Melbourne took a glass each and followed him to a hall where the majority of other guests had already arrived, including Flora, who ran over to greet them, eyeing their clasped hands.

"Are you both okay?" She asked in a low voice, well aware that Mama and John Conroy were sat by the fireplace across the room and eyeing them suspiciously.

"Terrified," Victoria whispered. "I can't wait to leave."

"'Drina! There you are," Mama called. "Introduce John and I to this man of yours properly."

Flora gave them an encouraging smile and stepped away, letting Victoria and Melbourne make their way over to where Mama sat. She had a smug look on her face as John looked at them with disapproval and disdain.

"Mama..." Victoria paused, looking over at Conroy and his snake-like eyes, "John...I'd like you to meet my partner, William Lamb-Melbourne."

Melbourne smiled at them and kissed the back of Mama's hand before shaking John Conroy's. "I've heard so much about you," he said to them both. "It's a pleasure."

Conroy didn't take his eyes off of Victoria. "I'm sure."

There was a moment of awkward silence before the doors to the hall swung open and three men came striding in. There was an older man with thick dark sideburns and sunken looking eyes, but he had a heavy head of black hair with a few silver strands that stood out like stars in the night sky despite his age. He carried himself tall and he had his two sons close behind him: Albert and Ernst. Ernst had a round head and pointed chin with hair that was soft and chestnut brown. He wore a blue suit that made the brown of his eyes even warmer. Albert was far more reserved than his older brother and his father, keeping his head down a touch, his eyes hidden behind dark eyebrows and a curly hair. You could only just see his moustache.

"Dear Sister!" The man with the starry hair called, moving swiftly towards Mama with his arms outstretched. "How wonderful to see you and John again," his German accent was even more prominent than Mama's.

"Ernest, it's been so long," she said. "You remember 'Drina?"

He turned to look at Victoria and she smiled back. "Uncle Ernest. How have you been? I'd like you to meet my partner," she gestured to Melbourne and he introduced himself.

Ernst, meanwhile, mingled easily with the group. He moved around the hall with a glass in his hand as though he were dancing, making an impression effortlessly on everyone with his good humour and smooth-like-chocolate charm. Albert kept close to the piano, his fingertips brushing delicately across the keys until it was too much for him to resist. He began to play a slow tune, making everyone stop and stare, coming over to watch him in pure delight. Mama and Conroy took one another's hands, standing and beginning to dance, moving around in circles with smiles. Ernst, after having cosied up to a waiter, took Flora by the hand, pulling her into a dance as well. She laughed but didn't take her eyes off of Albert as Ernst kept his eyes fixed on the waiter. Uncle Ernest nudged Victoria telling her that she and Melbourne ought to dance too. Victoria, smiling nervously, looked up at Melbourne who took her by the hand to the middle of the floor. He put one arm around her waist and Victoria put her hand on his shoulder, following Melbourne's lead. He was a surprisingly good dancer and didn't trip up whenever Victoria stepped on his toes.

"When did you learn to dance?" Victoria asked.

"I took a few lessons before I got married," he explained. "I thought tripping over in the wedding video wouldn't make for the most romantic of wedding memories."

Victoria laughed. "You might be right there," she paused before daring to ask, "do you miss your ex-wife?"

Melbourne considered it for a second. "No," he looked at Victoria's kind, soft eyes with a smile. "Caroline and I were not the wisest of matches in the end." How could he miss her when Victoria was right there in front of him and in his arms?

"Am I acting like I would be better match for you?" Victoria asked, regretting it almost immediately.

"Yes," he said in an instant. "Very much so."

"Do you regret marrying Caroline?"

"No. We had good marriage for a time, with good that came out of it too."

"Like what?" Victoria asked, her natural curiosity getting the better of her, but by the time Melbourne opened his mouth to answer, the music had stopped and Uncle Leopold had made his presence known.

The most Princely thing about Leopold at this moment was the blue sash around his torso with a number of important-looking badges on it. Leopold was younger than Ernest and older than Mama but his hair was already thinning on top, but he looked remarkably well with glowing skin that made him look so much younger than he was. He hugged his brother and kissed his sister's hand before greeting his nephews and Victoria.

"What's this I hear about you owning a cafe, 'Drina? Your Mother has been rather perplexed by the whole situation." Leopold laughed and looked to Melbourne for answers and tried to work out who he was.

"It's about time I had something of my own, Uncle, don't you agree? I cannot be living with Mama for the rest of my life. Have you met William?" She gestured to Melbourne with a smile.

"Oh, so this is the boyfriend and business partner," Leopold said, pretending to be delighted. "It's good to meet you at last."

"And you, Your Royal Highness," Melbourne said, bowing a little.

Uncle Leopold led them all to the dining hall soon after, each plate having a name place in front of it, dictating the seating position. Victoria frowned when she realised that Albert would be sat next to her and Melbourne would be sitting opposite her, but she didn't say anything. The dining hall was brightly lit with a chandelier that was perhaps too large for the space, the floor was made from white marble, the table from the finest wood with a number of floral centrepieces flowing down the middle of it. Flora was quite happily sandwiched between Albert's other side and Ernst, and she was unable to hide her joy. The dinner was five-course and Victoria, determined to keep peace, tried to make conversation with Albert by talking about her and Melbourne's shop, speaking fast and excitedly, her eyes lighting up as Melbourne smiled at her with a great fondness.

"It sounds like you are enjoying it," Albert said carefully. "But I can't say that I think dating a man old enough to be your father is a good idea."

Victoria sipped at her champagne, trying to keep herself calm. "I suppose you think you would be a better match for me like everyone else does?"

"Not at all. You're way too...you," Albert said with ease, waving a hand.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Victoria exclaimed, not realising just how loud her voice was.

"It's just that you're so loud...so forceful...so energetic...so...not my type," Albert said, eating again.

"Then it's a good job that I'm very happy with William, isn't that right?" Victoria said, looking to Melbourne for some kind of help.

"Oh, yes, very happy," he assured Albert and those listening to their conversation.

John Conroy didn't seem convinced by them, asking them how they got together so suddenly and smirking at Melbourne and Victoria's panicked faces. They hadn't thought too much about the details, hoping that there would be so many other things to talk about that they would forget all about them. Ernst was living a wild life so far and often ended up in trouble: police stations, accident and emergency, turning up in skips outside of German and London bars alike...so Victoria was hoping that his behaviour would take precedence over her love life.

"Working and living so closely together was bound to bring us together in other ways," Melbourne said quickly.

"Exactly!" Victoria said with a laugh. "Plus I thought him extremely handsome from the moment we first met." Not a lie.

Melbourne smiled, his heart fluttering wildly. "And I have been...totally in love since I first lifted that door off of her."

Silence swept over the table.

"Love?" Mama said, looking at Conroy and then at Victoria and Melbourne. "You've only known 'Drina for five minutes! How can you love her already?!"

Victoria looked at Melbourne with her mouth slightly ajar and Flora couldn't resist sniggering. Melbourne looked down at his plate, eating again so his mouth was too full for him to speak and put his foot in it again. His words had been truth, it had taken a long time for him to realise that had let himself love again without even knowing it. He had closed himself off to many suitors for years when all of a sudden, Victoria literally came crashing into his life and her brightness filled him to the brim. She had stolen his heart and he had vowed never to let anyone do that again after Caroline, for it was too fragile to be broken again and he had not been prepared to let the possibility of that happen again. At least, in this situation, he had been able to tell Victoria that he did in fact love her, and no one would take it seriously. She wouldn't know that it was the truth as they kept playing their little love game for her family.

Victoria downed her champagne, growing irate with the disapproval being chucked her way by all except Flora and Ernst. She could feel the anger in her chest and a deep sadness that sat behind that, where she hoped Melbourne's words were true. The more Melbourne was met with disapproval, the more Victoria became defensive.

"I hardly think it's any of your places to make comment about my relationships, especially not to my face! M...William, has been most kind and loving and I could not imagine a better business, and romantic, partner. Now if you don't mind, I'm sure there are more important things we could be discussing!"

There was silence again and Ernst made one of his rude jokes, trying to break the tension as Victoria got up to leave, too angry for the moment to stay and be polite to everyone. Melbourne apologised and followed her, finding her in the living room, pacing with her fists clenched.

"Did I go too far?" Melbourne asked, sitting down on the sofa.

Victoria sighed and threw herself on the sofa next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. "Not at all. It was sweet actually...very convincing. I'm just so angry that my family think they can treat me this way! I might be the youngest but I'm not a baby."

"Definitely not," Melbourne agreed, putting his arm around her and holding her close to him, trying to make her feel better.

"I can't believe they would speak about you like that either!"

"Water off a duck's back, I assure you," he smiled. "You seem to be taking it harder than me."

"That's because I care what people think of you, especially my family."

Melbourne gave her a crooked smile, almost out of disbelief. "Why?"

Victoria sat up, still staying close to him with barely a gap between them, their heads touching – Victoria's forehead on Melbourne's temple now. Her anger was beginning to disappear but there was a new feeling brewing in her stomach instead. It was that familiar feeling where butterflies were dancing and her heart was beating loud like a drum. She could smell Melbourne's hair; freshly washed with crisp apple shampoo, and his heady, intoxicating cologne in sharp contrast with one another. She could feel himself being drawn ever nearer to him.

"Because I care about you deeply," she whispered, hesitantly moving her head so they were touching foreheads instead. They were so close to one another that Melbourne could smell her sweet champagne breath and the faint scent of her peach lipstick. Like nervous magnets they drew ever closer.

The door was pushed open, making Victoria and Melbourne jump away from one another before their lips could touch. Both of them having their butterflies shot dead in an instant. Ernst leant against the door, a glass in hand and a smug look on his face.

"Uncle Leopold would like you back for dessert. Have I interrupted something?" He asked, downing his champagne in one.

"No," they both said at once and Victoria got to her feet, smoothed out her dress and cleared her throat. "You're drinking awfully quickly, Cousin, is everything alright?" She asked Ernst.

Ernst grinned, gesturing for a waiter who stood by the door, he grabbed another glass and winked at him. The waiter, a little flustered, smiled and went away again. "I already managed to get three of the waiter's numbers. I think Humphrey is my favourite though...I can't wait to see if he humps as freely as his name suggests," Ernst winked.

"Oh, Ernst, you never change," Victoria said fondly as she walked up to him and kissed his cheek. "How Uncle Ernest must despair of you sometimes."

"No more than Auntie despairs of you, I'm sure. Come, 'Drina, Mr Melbourne, dessert awaits us."

They followed Ernst back to the dining hall, not looking at one another. Victoria, however, did take Melbourne's hand as they walked through, only letting go so Melbourne could sit back in his own seat. She quietly apologised to Albert for snapping and invited him to talk more about himself so that they might be friends.

Albert worked closely with a number of charities, he volunteered regularly, he enjoyed train rides and looking at the history of trains, he practised playing the piano daily. His interests were far more subdued and calm than that of his elder brother's. Even though the two were wildly different in personality, Albert and Ernst were extremely close and could almost be mistaken for twins.

After dessert, Uncle Leopold stood and the waiters came to clear the table. He smiled and gestured back towards the hall with the piano again. "Alexandrina, Albert, how about we hear you playing the piano together? I hear you're both talented beyond measure."

Albert looked to Victoria. "I'm happy to do so if you are."

"One song won't hurt," Victoria agreed.

Uncle Leopold led the group to the hall and Albert and Victoria perched on the edge of the piano seat, muttering quietly together about what they would play. Victoria kept getting distracted from Albert because she could see Melbourne out of the corner of her eye, talking to John Conroy and her Mama. Albert nudged her a number of times, trying to get her to concentrate. It took a little over five minutes for them to finally decide. Their fingers moved together on either side of the piano, almost as though they were attempting to race one another, Victoria playing faster and faster, looking over at Melbourne and back again. Her movements were clumsy and caused a cacophony of sound against Albert's gentle tones, now spending more time looking at Melbourne than she did the piano. Albert soon stopped completely.

"I cannot play with you like that when you are distracted," He told her.

Victoria took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the piano. "I don't think I want to play at all."

"You said you wanted to," Albert protested. "You're so fickle! You never could make up your mind."

"I'll be whatever I want to be, whenever I want to be!" She exclaimed, rushing to Melbourne's side again, linking their arms together. Victoria could feel the fizz of the champagne and Melbourne's cologne in her head. "I think we should dance," she said as Albert's music began to pick up again. "Let's not have Albert's talents go to waste."

"A marvellous idea, 'Drina!" Leopold exclaimed. "It's a pity that there aren't enough women for all of us."

Ernst raised his eyebrow, smirking. "Pity might not be the word I'd use for that, Uncle."

Leopold ignored his nephew's comment. "I'm planning on staying for a few weeks yet, we can have another dance and invite more girls. I'm sure 'Drina and my dearest sister have plenty of friends."

Uncle Ernest made a noise of agreement. "Myself and the boys would gladly stay. It's so rare we get to see our sister and niece. Plus, I need to see what this Mr Melbourne has that my Albert doesn't, beside a few extra years of course."

Victoria's heart sunk. They'd have to continue the charade for a lot longer than she and Melbourne had anticipated, which meant there was more opportunity for their game to unravel and come to a halt. She could feel the fluttering feeling again, only this time she thought she was going to be sick. What if Melbourne wouldn't go along with it for longer than tonight? What if her family continued to try and force a date between her and Albert? Victoria didn't have time to dwell on it for long as Melbourne distracted her from her thoughts by pulling her into a dance in a swift, gentle motion.

"Is something the matter?" Melbourne asked.

"I didn't mean to drag you into all of this," Victoria sighed. "I'm so sorry. If I had known my uncles were staying for longer than this then I would never have asked you to do this for me...but I so can't bear the idea of dating Albert. We're so unsuited."

"Is it because you'd rather date another?" Melbourne asked, smiling. "Because if it's Ernst then I think you're not his type anyway," he joked as they danced passed Ernst who was whispering into the ear of Humphrey the waiter.

Victoria snorted. "You're quite ridiculous, M."

"I'll lie for you as long as you need me to," he promised. "It's not fair you have to go to this length to get your family to stop being so controlling over you."

"Life isn't fair," Victoria said easily.

Melbourne nodded, smiling helplessly. "I think I have to agree with you there." They danced carefully around those who stood and watched, Victoria picking up the steps quite easily with Melbourne there to lead her and guide her. He span them around the piano, both smiling broadly at one another and Melbourne gave an amused smile, speaking low. "You might not have to worry about your family's obsession with you and Albert for much longer."

Flora and Albert were sat close together on the piano seat, Flora watching him play in silence and copying his finger movements by hovering over the keys. They laughed together when Albert missed a key and Flora continued the piece, Albert instructing her as she went.

Victoria couldn't help beaming from ear to ear. "They're getting on like a house on fire. She's always thought him handsome...they would be a handsome couple together."

They all danced and drank for a few hours more, swapping partners and exchanging pleasantries with those they didn't know so well just yet. Victoria became increasingly clingy to Melbourne though he didn't mind, and her little crooked drunk smile made his heart become lighter than air. Her slurred speech was almost as endearing.

"'M glad we're in business," she told him, finally sitting down, getting too dizzy to keep dancing. "I can't imagine anyone better."

Melbourne kept holding her hand, squeezing it. "Me neither. We have plenty to look forward to when we open next week."

"It's a dream come true! You're a dream come true, M."

Uncle Leopold raised his eyebrows as he walked past. "You're opening your business next week?"

"That's the plan, at least, Sir," Melbourne agreed. "We're looking forward to it immensely."

Leopold smiled, a slow, growing smile that would be more at home in a horror movie. "Then we should all come to the grand opening! We'd love to see what our little 'Drina has been getting up to."

Victoria narrowed her eyes, trying to work out what her uncle was saying, her brain too full of champagne fog to let his words sink in properly.

"We'd be honoured if you joined us," Melbourne insisted, sitting down next to Victoria. "We're very proud of the changes we've made so far, aren't we?"

She nodded. "Oh yes...Bring everyone!"

Leopold promised that he would, going off to tell Ernest and the others who all agreed to go – excited and interested to see what Victoria had done with herself in terms of business. Melbourne sighed, feeling the nerves creep into his body once again. Victoria didn't yet understand the enormity of the situation and all she wanted to do was dance, and it was Melbourne she wanted to dance with. She bounced up, slipping slightly in her heels and trying to pull Melbourne up to the floor. He got up to support her as she began to sway to one side.

"No more dancing for you," Melbourne told her firmly. "Let's go out and get you some air." He walked Victoria outside to a balcony where she could lean against the railings and let the fresh, early autumn night cleanse her mind of the alcohol.

Leopold's London house was far enough on the outskirts of the city for stars to be visible and Victoria looked up with a broad smile and sparkling eyes, watching each twinkle appear. She whispered that it was like magic. Melbourne watched her from the door, smiling himself. Her skin was illuminated by the moon and he felt breathless by her beauty in this light. Victoria pointed up excitedly, making Melbourne look too.

"Oh, M, it's a shooting star!" She exclaimed like a child.

"So it is," Melbourne said after a pause, watching the light move across the sky. "You'd better make a wish."

"Only if you do too," she instructed, closing her eyes and letting her mind and heart think of all she wanted. Victoria already had more than she ever dreamed of – a flat, a business, friends, a mostly loving family. She wanted for nothing and yet she found herself wishing hard with her eyes squeezed shut, her heart yearning.

Melbourne agreed to wish and closed his own eyes, knowing completely that Victoria was all he could wish for and that the light across the sky was, in fact, a plane.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! This fic has long since been completed and all chapters are now available to read over at my Archive of Our Own account if you can't wait to read more! (Knowing me, I will forget to keep uploading the chapters here like I have been - so definitely check out my AO3 for this finished fic, and other Victoria fics I've written, if you can!

AO3 username: dechagny


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